


Bruise Violet

by misumaru



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Bruises, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 05:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13264482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misumaru/pseuds/misumaru
Summary: After the Winter Cup - and his run-in with Haizaki - Himuro licks his wounds.





	Bruise Violet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my Hurt/Comfort Bingo free square using "bruises". Many thanks to LdyBastet for the beta! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tadatoshi Fujimaki.

Himuro’s face had almost stopped stinging by the time he got back to the team’s hotel. Emphasis on almost. That asshole Haizaki had really known how to throw a punch. His stomach was still tender from where he’d been kicked too… At least Alex was fine, if only because of Kagami’s intervention. Another thing to add to the list of humiliations of the day, even if Himuro had been admittedly glad to see him.

He paused at the entrance of the hotel. The rest of the team wouldn’t still be up, would they? It wasn’t exactly that late, but at the same time they didn’t have anything to stay up and celebrate after their loss. He’d even made a point of taking the long way back after seeing Alex off, hoping the cool night air would help clear his head a little. The last thing he needed was to be dragged into another round of commiserations and agonising over the game with his teammates. Not to mention having to explain himself for that whole punching his teammate thing earlier…

Himuro sighed. And there was the real reason he’d taken so long to come back. Sure, he might be able to dodge most of the team, but there was one person he couldn’t avoid, not unless he wanted to spend all night walking around. Sharing a room had seemed like such a good idea at the time too... He made his way through the busy hotel lobby and back up to his room, keeping his head ducked down the entire time until he reached his door. Taking a deep breath, he swiped his keycard and eased the door open a crack as silently as he could manage. No lights… There was a familiar shape collapsed on one of the tiny beds though – it seemed like Murasakibara had decided an early night was a good idea? Then again, given Murasakibara’s face after the game, Himuro guessed he probably didn’t want to talk to anyone either. Himuro slipped into the dark room, only tripping over a few times as he made his way to the bathroom. He waited until the door was firmly closed before turning on the light and examining himself in the mirror.

It wasn’t a pretty sight, but Himuro supposed it could have been worse. There was an ugly purple blotch where Haizaki’s fist had grazed the side of his face, dotted with a few specks of blood. Himuro winced as he carefully splashed some water on it. It didn’t seem swollen, but… He guessed he’d have to see how bad it really was in the morning. He needed a shower. And sleep. The day had been exhausting for him in more ways than one. 

It didn’t take long for the water to heat up, and he winced as the spray hit his various injuries. Any hopes he’d had for this helping to relax him faded away as he stiffened up at each renewed twinge of pain. He did the best he could, soaping up the areas that hurt the most as lightly as he could manage while still getting clean and massaging his aching muscles from the game. He’d shower again in the morning anyway, when things would hopefully hurt a little less.

As he stepped out of the shower, Himuro realised he hadn’t grabbed his sleepwear on the way in. Damn it. He’d probably wake Murasakibara if he tried to get changed now or he’d fall over trying to pull his t-shirt on in the dark or something – it wouldn’t be that bad to sleep in just a towel for one night, right? Even so, he slipped into the room and made a beeline for his bed as quickly as possible, then lay there trying to get his breathing under control. 

Sleep didn’t seem to find him. How long Himuro was lying there in the dark with his eyes squeezed shut, he wasn’t sure, but when he did finally open to them to check the time he nearly jumped out of the bed. Something was looming over him, casting an even deeper shadow despite the darkness. 

“Muro-chin, I need to talk to you.”

Before Himuro had a chance to protest, the bed creaked alarmingly as Murasakibara eased his weight onto it - Himuro was surprised that a relatively tiny single bed was able to accommodate the two of them without breaking, but if it didn’t immediately break under Murasakibara then it was probably fine. He still didn’t really want to talk to anyone… but Himuro found himself shifting over so Murasakibara could lay a little more comfortably anyway. As it was, he was half-draped over Himuro, long limbs preventing any form of escape. Himuro shifted nervously, trying to keep Murasakibara’s weight off his battered stomach, but it wasn’t long until Murasakibara rolled over too far and brushed over the tender skin. A small whimper of pain escaped Himuro’s lips. 

“You’re hurt?”

Himuro was grateful it was too dark for Murasakibara to see the bruises on his face, but he still moved so he was on his side facing away from him anyway. “It’s nothing. What did you need to talk about?”

“We lost.”

That was to the point. “Yeah, we did.”

“I won’t lose again.”

The weight on Himuro shifted, the rustling of sheets next to his head suggesting that Murasakibara was clenching his fist. “Oh? Still planning on quitting, then?”

“I thought about that. If I don’t play, I can’t win either…”

Surprisingly straightforward logic. Himuro’s hand reached out towards Murasakibara’s then drew back. “I’m glad. I… The team needs you.”

Another long moment of silence; Himuro held his breath and waited. He had a pretty good idea of what Murasakibara really wanted to talk about, it was just a question of if he did it now or waited until the morning. Murasakibara did sound pretty sleepy still; it had probably been a lot of effort just to get out of his bed…

“You punched me.”

And there it was. 

“Yeah. You needed it.” There was tiny grunt of annoyance from Murasakibara. He’d probably been hoping for an apology, but Himuro had no intention of giving him one – it was true that HImuro's own emotions had been running far too high, but Murasakibara _had_ needed it. Even so, Himuro softened his tone a little. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really. I don’t think anyone’s punched me before…”

“Act like that during a game again and I’ll be happy to punch you as much as you need.” Another grunt, less annoyed this time, and Murasakibara was quiet again. The conversation might have been over, but there was no indication that Murasakibara had any intention of moving. Not that Himuro minded too much – the lack of room and the way he was being pushed against the bed might have meant he was significantly less comfortable, but he was more than happy to lie there with Murasakibara’s breath tickling at the back of his neck. At least, he was to begin with. After a while, Himuro became aware of something else pressing against the small of his back. Something that made him acutely aware that only a thin sheet and a towel separated his naked body from Murasakibara. “Atsushi…?”

There was some embarrassed shuffling from behind him, which only served to rub the tip of Murasakibara’s cock even more against Himuro’s back. It felt rock solid – just how long had Murasakibara been hard for? “Sorry. I’ll go back to my bed.”

Himuro grabbed Murasakibara’s wrist, stopping him from leaving. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry, a little embarrassed at the sheer amount of need feeling Murasakibara’s hard-on had awoken in him. Maybe sex wasn’t the best idea after the events of the day, but Himuro really, really wanted to. “No, don’t. I… I have an idea.”

The lack of light and Murasakibara’s bulk were a problem, but Himuro was able to pull back the covers and toss the towel aside enough for his arse and legs to be bared to Murasakibara. Sure, they were a little lacking on supplies – getting laid had been the last thing on Himuro’s mind in the build up to the Winter Cup – but that didn’t mean they couldn’t improvise. Murasakibara’s boxers were quickly disposed of, and then Himuro was parting his thighs, inviting Murasakibara to put his cock between them. 

Himuro’s breathing sped up as Murasakibara’s cock slid between the soft skin of his thighs. It might not have been inside him, but Himuro’s own cock pulsed with pleasure at the feeling – the thick length pressing against him as Murasakibara’s weight kept him pushed down against the bed. He tensed his thighs as tightly as he could around the cock, savouring the feeling as it rubbed against his skin with each careful movement, but couldn’t do much more. With Murasakibara wrapped around him, all Himuro could do was lie there as his thighs were thoroughly fucked. 

They moved together carefully, Himuro still sore from his earlier fight and both not wanting to accidentally fall off or break the bed creaking beneath them. The head of Murasakibara’s cock brushed against Himuro’s balls with each thrust, making him moan and beg for more. Himuro managed to get one hand down to touch his own cock, feeling like he might explode if he didn’t get any relief soon, only for it to be quickly knocked away.

“Huh? Atsushi, why did you…”

Murasakibara didn’t reply, just started to stroke Himuro’s cock roughly as his thrusts sped up. The creaking from the bed got even louder but any concerns Himuro might have had about it breaking were overwritten with the desperate need to come. Murasakibara beat him to it, grunting as white spurts of come painted Himuro’s thighs. The combination of hot come coating his skin and Murasakibara continuing to stroke at his cock finally proved to be too much, and Himuro came, white sparks dancing in front of his eyes as moaned through his orgasm. 

Himuro’s first thought when he recovered was to retrieve the towel and use it to clean themselves up, but he didn’t get far before a pair of long arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders and pulled him in. Without much choice, Himuro turned to face Murasakibara and buried himself in the embrace, come still cooling on his thighs as he finally managed to sleep. 

 

***

It was just as well Himuro had planned to shower again in the morning – he needed it. He spent a long time washing off the dried come from his skin and testing his various injuries. Still a little sore, but otherwise he felt pretty good? As cheesy as it sounded, he definitely felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

There was one injury he was more concerned about than the rest though. Towelling off his hair, Himuro checked his face in the mirror again. Definitely not as bad as he’d feared – a few small marks easily covered by his hair and that would probably fade throughout the day. He could live with that. 

Murasakibara was still snoring when he walked back into the room. Himuro looked at him fondly for a few minutes before throwing a pillow at his head. “Hey! Wake up! We’ve got a game to watch.”

“Don’t wanna.”

The covers were quickly pulled back over Murasakibara’s head. Some things never changed, it seemed. Still, Himuro had been prepared for this. He found his bag and made a big deal of rummaging around in the bottom before pulling out a jumbo-sized bag of potato chips. “That’s a shame. I had this regional special flavour I thought we could try. Guess I’ll just have to eat it myself…”

A pair off purple eyes appeared above the sheets. “I’m listening…”

Himuro smiled, ignoring the slight ache in his face as he did so. It seemed like things were going to be all right after all.


End file.
